


Femslash February 2020

by chillsoya



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Drabbles, F/F, Femslash February 2020, Fluff, Muggle University AU, Multi, Tags to be updated as chapters added, oneshots, unconnected oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22517782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chillsoya/pseuds/chillsoya
Summary: Collection of short oneshots for femslash February. I might not upload for every day, but I'm hoping to fill some of the prompts by shallowvenus which you can find here: https://shallowvenus.tumblr.com/post/190458581895/prompt-list-for-femslash-february-2020-a-month-toOneshots will be unrelated and I'll write for several different femslash pairings.
Relationships: Lavender Brown/Hermione Granger, Narcissa Black Malfoy/Lily Evans Potter
Kudos: 12





	1. Day 1: Grow

**Author's Note:**

> Lily/Narcissa  
> Prompt: Grow

Weaving blonde hair around her fingers, Lily sighs down at the girl laying her head in her lap. Narcissa opens sapphire eyes in question, catching the sunlight as if an angel. Lily doesn’t realise Narcissa is thinking the same - that Lily, haloed in fire, looks angelic. That her lips are forbidden fruit.

She finally sits up, and Lily blinks stars from her eyes. Narcissa smiles, the slight gap between her front teeth showing - unseemly given her perfection, and yet all the more beautiful for it.  
“What are you thinking of, Lilypad?”

Feeling herself colour darkly, Lily looks across the field of flowers they lie in. They agreed to apparate to here from Hogsmeade. They couldn’t risk being seen by anyone, with Lucius hawkishly watching Narcissa wherever she went, and James so covetous of Lily’s attention. These stolen moments like coins in a pickpocket’s purse, two schoolgirls in the spring dew catching sun like crystal.

“Did I ever tell you what my first display of magic was?” Lily asks, and her voice is small, sharing a secret. Much of Lily’s life in Muggle England is secretive, and Narcissa takes each crumb of information and stores it like a squirrel for harsh winters. She supposes Lily doesn’t share more because of the Death Eater wannabes and other such bullies and fanatics. When walls talk as they do in Hogwarts, secrets can be hard to keep even shared between two.

“No,” she breathes, as if afraid of disturbing the moment, and Lily seems to gravitate into her orbit, twirling sprigs of grass between her fingers before plucking them from the soil.

“I made flowers grow,” she mumbles, holding the flat strands on her palm and willing them upright, flowers growing as if her hand was the ground they lay roots in. The petals are fat and dewy as if fresh from the very field they sit in, a sweet pink. Narcissa watches, captivated - wandless magic is notoriously difficult, but this seems a second nature to Lily.

“Like a goddess of spring,” Narcissa speaks before thinking, words tumbling from her mouth. Lily grins, bashful to be rendered in words that would befit Sappho. Narcissa is a similar pink to the flower, and Lily holds it by Cissa’s cheek as if to prove it. It feels cool and feather-light on her skin.

“I showed my sister, and she called me a freak,” Lily murmurs at last, her face not stormy with righteousness as it usually would be at such offense, instead sad, a scared little girl who thought she had done something wonderful. As she recounts it, the flower withers, browning at the edges, the petals curling up. Narcissa feels like her heart is being crushed with it.

“I’d have been entranced, so she has no sense whatsoever,” Narcissa retorts, haughtily, and Lily laughs that bell’s peal giggle. As entranced as she supposes she would have been then, Narcissa places her hands over the crumpling flower, concentrates - transfiguration had never been her strongest subject - and then removes them. Where the remains had been is a lilypad suspended in the air, perfectly round, the size of a penny. Lily gasps in delight, leaning in to look closer. The miniature water lily on top is red like her hair, and Narcissa is positively glowing with pride.

“I’m going to keep this,” Lily promises, wrapping it tenderly in her fingers. Narcissa nods, brushes Lily’s hair back from her face, leaning in. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but it feels right as much as it feels new. Lily kisses back chastely, and sapphire meets emerald when they dare to look at one another again.

She would be keeping the lilypad as a memento of her first kiss, of the stolen moment that made flowers, her heart and her love for Narcissa grow.


	2. Amortentia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavender x Hermione, muggle university AU

The first thing Hermione begins to associate with Lavender Brown is freshly cut grass. 

They meet for the first time in the university courtyard, Hermione’s bag heavy with leather bound psychology textbooks. Lavender carries a satchel, too, that bounces on her hip as she runs blindly over the cobbles, covering her nose. In one hand is a clutch of newly mown grass - the mower is circling the centre of the courtyard slowly.

They collide under the shadow of the oak tree that has grown there for hundreds of years. Lavender, the shorter of the two, bounces back in surprise - the strands of grass flutter away in the spring breeze. Her eyes are running, bloodshot. Hermione stares at her in surprise.

“Are you alright?” She asks kindly, identifying Lavender as a younger student - Hermione is completing the final year of her Developmental Psychology Masters degree.  
“Yes! Sorry, I just… Bugger, I dropped my grass!” Lavender wails, quickly scampering off to collect more. Hermione watches in awe as she goes the greenery and starts picking up long strands of the grass, just cut - she’s about two metres behind the lawnmower which seems somewhat dangerous, actually. By the way she sneezes, Hermione guesses she has hayfever - it only seems fair to help considering it’s partly her fault the girl dropped her gatherings. Like Ron always makes fun of her for, she had her nose stuffed in a book.

“Here, let me.” Hermione offers, leaning down and scooping up grass, handing it to the girl. “I’m Hermione, by the way.”  
“Lavender. And, thank you.” Lavender rubs the sleeve of her sweater under her nose and swipes at her eyes. “I’m sorry, I should get inside - hayfever.” 

Hermione watches Lavender go with a curious smile on her face. She hadn’t even gotten a chance what the hell she needed freshly cut grass for.

-

The next thing Hermione begins to associate with Lavender Brown - who has recently added her on Facebook - is parchment.

The library is Hermione’s favourite place on campus. Libraries are probably her favourite places in the world - period. Today she’s coming to the library after a stressful lecture to redraft her notes and get ahead on the next assignment. What she doesn’t expect is for Lavender to be wandering the aisles looking lost and in awe.  
Without thinking about it - Hermione likes to consider herself a helpful person - she dumps her things on a nearby table and goes to Lavender.

“Hi, um, Lavender - sorry, I just thought you looked a little bit lost?” She smiles awkwardly and Lavender stares at her, mortified for a long moment then returns the smile, shyly.  
“I am a bit. I’m looking for anything and everything on wicca.” Lavender blushes and drops her head, staring at the floor. 

Hermione is pretty surprised but checks the guide on the wall and takes the girl to the right aisle. Befuddled, she follows her to the titles and tries to see what sort of thing she might be looking at. Being quite grounded, Hermione has always considered anything relating to witchcraft and wizardry to be a bit of a waste of time. She’s a busy woman, afterall, and can’t really take time out to study silly spells.

But the way Lavender runs her fingers over the dusty tomes like they’re precious makes Hermione think she must be missing something. 

Lavender retrieves a heavy book, perched on tip-toe to reach it. She wipes dust from the cover and smiles, opening the volume up. Straight away Hermione is hit with the scent of old, yellowing parchment inked a long time ago. It fills her up with a calm she can’t explain.

“What is it?” She finally asks, curiously watching Lavender flip through pages upon pages of diagrams and strange symbols.  
“A grimoire.” Lavender explains, her prior embarrassment vanished. She glances up at Hermione and sees her lost look. “Oh, it’s got spells and incantations in it. I’m researching.” She shrugs as if this is an everyday thing for her.  
“Maybe we could go for coffee.” Hermione surprises herself in asking but doesn’t feel regretful. “I’ve never really… Y’know, looked into this stuff. But it looks amazing - you could teach me about it?”

Lavender is grinning at her, her whole face lit up.  
“I’d love to.”

-

Hermione is agonising over the next day - her coffee date with Lavender. Ron would howl with laughter hearing Hermione take an interest in wicca, of all things. But despite that, all she can think about in her spare time (which isn’t that often around coursework, though today she is fairly distracted) is the curls of Lavender’s hair and the smell of parchment and fresh cut grass. 

It’s refreshing. It’s new. It’s terrifying.

So Hermione spends the last of her evening immersed in her work, trying to quell her nerves with countless cups of tea. She doesn’t pick up Harry or Ron’s calls.

-

The next smell Hermione associated with Lavender is, well… lavender. 

The cafe they go to has milk bottles with lavender in the centre of each table. Hermione has never been here before and the smell is almost overpowering - but she loves it. Lavender smiles at her when she arrives, already seated. She wears a crystal attached to a chain around her neck.

“Hi, Hermione.” Lavender is shy but endlessly interested, non-judgemental of Hermione who feels she must come across like a stick in the mud.  
“Hey. It smells lovely in here.” She comments redundantly as she sits down - Lavender orders them matcha lattes that come with a couple of edible flower petals on top. The foam is poured in the shape of a heart.

They talk idly for a while - Lavender is a philosophy major from the Welsh countryside. Her parents are Irish/Dutch immigrants. She wants to live in Norway. Hermione tells Lavender that her parents are Nigerian immigrants who run an orthopaedic surgery together. She tells her she is a Developmental Psychology major studying for her Masters and intends to go on to do a PhD. She tells Lavender she has beautiful eyes.

The grimoire is interesting - but not as interesting as Lavender Brown and the way she explains it and fawns over it. 

Not as interesting as they way she curls her hair around her finger when she talks.

Not as interesting as the way she reminds Hermione of parchment and freshly cut grass and warm spring days with just the right amount of breeze.

-

The final smell Hermione associates with Lavender is spearmint toothpaste.

She stays at Lavender’s house for the first time after they go to a witchcraft society meeting together late at night where they burn herbs and talk about ancient runes and divination and malevolent ghosts. It’s late and when Lavender, now her most frequently seen friend, asks her to stay - she’s frightened because of the talk about spirits - Hermione doesn’t even consider saying no.

They light candles in the small living room - Lavender’s flatmate Parvati is out at a family gathering. Hermione looks through Lavender’s record collection and plays the Smiths. They snack on Ritz crackers and hummus and cherry tomatoes. Lavender cuts up watermelon in the kitchen while Hermione dozes on the couch listening to Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want.

They share the watermelon and hold hands under an old blanket. Then they brush their teeth together at the sink and go to Lavender’s bedroom to sleep. And lying there in the bed with the fairy lights on and the room full of crystals, house plants, jars of herbs and crushed flowers, Lavender kisses Hermione. And she smells of spearmint toothpaste and parchment and cut grass and lavender and home.

-


End file.
